Although he had been working with her for many weeks, Bill Adama didn't understand how complicated Laura was until after they had become friends on the surface of Kobol. That's when he learned there was a different Laura from the one the rest of the fleet knew as their President. President Roslin was determined, wise, and very serious. Laura was playful, adventurous, and had a wonderful sense of humor.

Bill had a privileged invitation to encounter them both regularly. He worked with President Roslin, but once that was over for the evening, he talked to Laura. Bill found the more he talked to Laura, the more he wanted to talk to her. They shared stories of their misguided youths, which would end with his quarters becoming filled with the sound of laughter, mostly hers.

They never talked about death or dying during those times, but Bill knew their time together would be short. It broke his heart. But Laura helped him almost forget that sad truth. When her body was doubled over in laughter, it didn't seem possible that something could be eating her from the inside out, killing her. President Roslin was a fighter, and Laura was no slouch either; the cancer shouldn't have stood a chance against the two of them.

Their conversations stayed away from the emotional and the negative. Bill had learned that Laura didn't really do emotions, and that suited him fine, as he had always been accused of being stoic or unfeeling-at least that's what Carolanne had always said; Laura never seemed to think he was cold. In fact, if he didn't know better, he thought she actually liked him the way he was, warts and all. Anyway, compared to Laura, Bill was actually the more emotional of the two, and he knew he wouldn't be able to keep it together afterward.

When they were tucked away in his quarters, sitting on his couch, the cloud of doom hanging over their heads seemed far away. The couch in Bill's quarters belonged to them; it was their sanctuary. One night, not long after they had returned from Kobol, Laura joked that she had liked the couch long before she liked Bill. That statement actually made him very happy: He liked knowing she liked his couch, and he loved sharing it with her, and, in her way, Laura admitted to liking him. That was as close to an emotional declaration he was likely to get, and he was happy to receive it.

If the sofa was their sanctuary, his rack was their playground. And their play was always initiated by Laura. Their first time had come as a shock to Bill.

One night, they were sitting on the sofa, finishing up their work as leaders. When the last of the paperwork and reports were put away, Bill was ready for some downtime with Laura. He went to the cart for their drinks: ambrosia for him, water for her. After he sat down, he felt Laura's hands on the back of his neck, beginning to massage him. Their drinks sat on the coffee table, forgotten.

A neck massage was one of the few requests he'd made during his marriage, but Carolanne could never be bothered to give him one. Their love life had always been about her. It was one of the many ways they had been incompatible. But there was Laura giving him one, without ever having been asked.

"Why?"

"Thought you could use one."

"Thank you."

Bill wasn't exactly sure what his friend had in mind for them. Friends give massages, as do strangers at a spa. He didn't want to make any assumptions that would put them in an awkward place. And he definitely wanted her to keep doing what she was doing, gently rubbing the tension of the fleet away. Bill focused on the feeling of her hands on his neck, ignoring his growing arousal. It turned out he needn't have bothered worrying.

Her lips on his neck made her intentions clearer. Friends may give massages from time to time, but kisses, licks, and nibbles usually aren't involved. By the time she started gently nibbling his neck, Bill was completely ready. But he needed to talk to her, find out where she wanted things to go.

"Laura?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you want?" Bill wasn't prepared to hear her giggles at his question, but then again, he should have been.

"You, silly." She said that like it was the most obvious thing in the worlds. It didn't make sense in his mind. In the past, he had always initiated his relationships. He spent weeks getting to know the women he had dated. He was always looking for someone of quality, whom he could commit to long term. But Laura had chosen him. Not that he wouldn't have chosen her. He was getting to the point where he was ready to woo her, deciding of all the women he'd known, Laura was the finest, and he'd protect and cherish her for the rest of their lives. But she was wooing him.

"Why?"

"Why what?" She asked between kisses to his neck. Her hands had reached around him to the front of his jacket, and she was working on the buttons. He couldn't remember ever having a woman undress him. Loving Laura would certainly be an adventure and a challenge. He looked forward to all of it.

"Why do you want me?"

"You respect me."

"A lot of men respect you."

"Not the way you do."

And there it was. The reason Laura wanted him, chose him, when she could have had any man in the fleet. Bill respected her, but he hadn't done it lightly. She had to earn his respect, just like he had to earn hers. And their mutual respect did't preclude them from having heated discussions and arguments. It was all part of their increasingly complicated relationship.

Bill had finally made up his mind. Laura was offering herself to him; it was time he took her up on it.

"Laura?"

"Yes, Bill?"

"Let's move to the rack."

He could almost hear the smirk in her voice as she said, "Thought you'd never ask."

He got off the sofa with a speed he hadn't exhibited in years. He reached out his hand to Laura, and she took it. Then she led him to the rack. Laura had been calling the shots up until then; Bill decided to let her continue leading them. He'd waited his whole life for this woman to lead him, he realized. He'd follow her anywhere.

"I should warn you, I might be a little silly." Her face was a beautiful contradiction. A perfect mix of glee and seriousness.

His face was filled with mirth. "I look forward to it."

Laura couldn't believe how much control she had over the situation. During her affair with Richard, he had always taken control quickly. She never thought she minded it, but Bill showed her how wonderful the alternative could be. Richard never wanted to play. Of course, they didn't really have time. His position and marriage precluded many opportunities. Plus, he didn't find her playful side sexy. He wanted her to be Secretary Roslin, not Laura-powerful but not too powerful, independent but not too independent, someone he could control but not too easily.

Laura had died. Personal tragedies, her political career, and her affair with Richard killed the woman she used to be. But Bill Adama brought her back from the dead. And he didn't even know it. His patience, loyalty, and respect showed her what she had been missing. In the end, Bill had coaxed Laura out of her shell, and she was going to enjoy her time with him. It was her gift to both of them.

When they got to the rack, the reality of what they were about to do set in. Bill was determined to let Laura continue leading. He knew he wouldn't be disappointed if he did. Just knowing she wanted him was exciting. Carolanne had been beautiful, as were his other lovers, but they all paled in comparison to the wonderful seductress standing before him. And none of them had made him feel as wanted. Laura was devouring him with her eyes; he could tell she was deciding just what she wanted to do with him. Bill might not have liked all of President Roslin's decisions, but he knew he'd enjoy Laura's.

For Laura's part, she couldn't decide between undressing him herself or watching as he stripped. Both had their merit. Ultimately, it didn't matter-she'd make sure they did All The Things, but she wanted them to get optimal enjoyment from their first time. Knowing about his scar, Laura wasn't sure if stripping would make him feel sexy or self-conscious. Laura wanted it to be fun not therapeutic, so she opted to undress him herself.

Standing directly in front of him, Laura took full advantage of the opportunity to feel her soldier's body, starting with his shoulders and arms. The men in Laura's circle had lacked strong arms and sturdy shoulders. Richard was a puny little man compared to Bill. She took great pleasure in removing his jacket, stopping to feel each revealed place on his torso. The jacket fell in an undignified heap on the floor. Laura wondered if Bill would want to stop to pick it up. The tent in his pants, told her she was doing a fine job-that the current state of his service dress coat was the least of his worries.

So, she kept going. Unbuckling his belt slowly, pulling it out of each loop around his waist. Bill let out a low groan, which closely resembled a growl-it was the sexiest sound Laura had ever heard, and she'd been cataloging Bill's sounds for weeks. He made no move to take control, but his fists were clenched at his sides; Laura could tell he was fighting his own urges. She appreciated the gesture.

Once the belt was off, it joined the jacket. Laura untucked his shirt and tanks, unbuttoning the top. She was tempted to rip it off him, but he'd need to wear it to work the next day. Plus, the slow pace was a nice foreplay.

His shirt soon followed the jacket and belt. Bill rose his arms so she could remove his tanks. Then Laura had to issue her first command.

"Off with the boots, Adama."

"Yes, Ma'am." He sat on the side of the rack, untying and removing his boots, as Laura sat behind him, rubbing his chest, shoulders, back, and neck, kissing and nibbling his skin wherever she pleased. Once his boots were off, Bill decided it was time to level the playing field.

He turned to look at her. "Laura?"

"What?"

"I want to see you."

Laura gave him a smirk. "I think you are seeing me, Bill."

"Smartass."

"Why don't you do something about it, Commander?"

"With pleasure, Madame President."

Laura had removed her Black jacket over an hour prior-when they were still working. Bill reached for his enchantress's light pink blouse, undoing each button. He gave Laura the same treatment she'd given him, rubbing and kissing each newly revealed place. She moaned, groaned, or hummed in delight. Bill loved each sound she made, noticing each of their nuances. He'd never get tired of hearing them-learning what caused them.

He removed her blouse, tossing it on the floor. They'd have to have their respective uniforms laundered, but that would be for the President and the Commander to worry about. Bill and Laura were busy. And that pesky bra had to go next.

From their very first meeting, Bill had been imagining what Laura's underwear looked like. When she was only a visiting dignitary on the soon-to-be decommissioned battlestar, Bill was tempted to offer her a tour of his quarters, perhaps make amends for the way he'd treated her during the computer networking discussion. She was a woman in a class of her own, and he'd wanted her from the beginning-even before he liked her, he'd loved her. But it went against his nature to move too quickly, and things had never gone right for them. That evening's turn of events revealed that it was Laura who needed to decide what she wanted, that she was the one who would set the pace.

Bill had imagined every color of the rainbow during his fantasies. He'd never imagined white lace, though. But of course, it made the most sense in reality, going well with all of her professional outfits. He wished he could have known her on Caprica, years ago; maybe meet her in a bookstore where they were trying to grab the same book. Or at a parent-teacher conference. Or anywhere. But they didn't have Caprica. They had Galactica and Colonial One. And forty odd ships making up their fleet. None of that mattered; Laura lying in his rack, uninhibited in her skirt and bra, was better than any fantasy he ever had.

He feasted his eyes, hands, and mouth on her body, and she did the same to him. Her bra followed her blouse. Then Bill lay on his back, so Laura could reclaim control. He had the best vantage point in the worlds; he never wanted to be anywhere else again. Laura unzipped his pants, and Bill raised his hips to help her lower them down his legs. She threw them across the room with the strength of a pyramid player. Bill marveled at the sight. The way her body moved as she undressed him was the most erotic thing he'd seen in his life. She was a goddess, and he was all hers. It was the first time he had ever belonged to anyone, and he knew it would be his last.

"You're poking out of your boxers."

"Yeah."

"Why don't we take care of that?"

"Please, Laura."

She gently pulled his boxers off, throwing them haphazardly. Then she bent down, taking him in her mouth. Laura was in complete control, and she loved it, loved that she could give the man under her pleasure.

For his part, Bill was torn. He knew he wouldn't last long, and he desperately wanted Laura to experience the bliss he could offer. But she looked so beautiful and graceful, and he was enjoying it so much. However, he'd become Commander of a battlestar by making difficult decisions, and doing the right thing-he knew what he had to do.

"Laura...It's too much. Please..."

Laura smiled as she released him. "You didn't think I was going to let you come, did you?"

Bill had an earnest expression. "I didn't know how long I could last."

She was touched by his concern and respect, though she had expected it by that point. She knew he'd want to pleasure her, and that seemed like a pretty great idea. "How bout we get me caught up?" She was still straddling Bill's legs.

"Lead the way, Ma'am."

"Wanna help me with my skirt, Commander?"

"Madame President, I've wanted to help you with your skirt since the day we met."

"That's not true."

"Oh yes it is."

"You hated me that day."

"Laura, I've never hated you. And certainly not that day."

"No?"

"No." Bill's expression brooked no further argument, but Laura couldn't resist.

"You wanted to frak the Secretary of Education, then?"

"Not immediately. I wanted to talk to her after the ceremony, maybe have a drink with her. Then, I would have contacted her on Caprica once I was settled in."

"Not sure how receptive she would have been."

"I can be very persuasive."

"She can be very stubborn."

"I noticed."

Laura filled the rack with laughter. Bill was mesmerized by the sight of her body moving as she laughed. Her breasts were bouncing, and Bill couldn't fight the urge to reach for them, ever mindful of what lurked in her left one.

"What about my skirt?"

"Oh yeah. I was distracted."

"Hmm. There'll be time for more...distractions later."

Bill's hands moved from her breasts to the top of her skirt. He quickly found the zipper, lowering it. Laura maneuvered so she was sitting on Bill's legs, with her legs out, and her hips lifted, so he could pull it down and off. Her feet rested on his shoulders. Bill's hands brushed against her legs and ankles as he removed her skirt. Once the skirt was off, Bill tossed it on the floor. Neither of them knew where it had landed, nor did they care.

Laura's panties matched her bra. That fact was unsurprising but fascinating, nonetheless. Bill had one hand around each of her ankles: While he was removing the skirt, he heard a particular sigh when he brushed her ankles. He wanted to see what other sounds' she'd make. So he gently rubbed them, moving his hands slowly up her legs to her calves. Their enjoyment was clearly mutual as Laura's hums and groans indicated.

Bill couldn't remember when he'd had more fun in his life. He used to think flying a viper was the greatest rush in the worlds. And for a long time, it seemed like he was right; it had always been better than sex. Not that his sex life was lacking-he was a hot young pilot and a bad boy when he'd mustered out: That meant he was never short of prospective partners. He'd dated many women, frakked most of them, before finally ending up with Carolanne. He loved his wife, but they simply weren't compatible-and their sex life was very boring. In the end, he realized sex was a chore for his wife; that she got no enjoyment out of it. Neither did he, if he was honest with himself. But with Laura, everything was different. It was fun and easy. They could laugh together. They were so comfortable, so...compatible. And it rivaled the wildest viper ride he'd ever had.

Bill's hands slowly traveled up her thighs, until he reached her apex. Laura's hands followed his to the top of her panties; they worked together, peeling them down. When Laura was free, she launched herself on top of Bill, claiming his mouth with her own. It was lost on neither of them that they had done things slightly out of order, but then again, it was what seemed natural for them-they could never have been a typical couple, even if they wanted to; why should they have expected their couplings to be typical?

"You ready?"

"I've been ready a long time, Laura."

"I know, since we met, right?"

"Right."

"Me too." Laura could admit she'd had attractions to the obstinate Commander since their minor tussle over the computer networkings. She'd never had a worthy sparring partner before Bill Adama entered her life. The idea of playing with him had been in the back of her mind from the beginning.

"What do you want?" Laura asked.

"You, silly."

"I know, but..."

"Oh. I like a woman on top."

"Really?"

"I do now."

"Hmm. I think that can be arranged."

It'd been many years since a partner let Laura drive. She relished the fact that Bill was going to. She'd chosen well.

Laura mounted him, lowering herself at the pace she needed. When he was fully engulfed, Bill began to thrust upward in conjunction with Laura's thrusts. After weeks of foreplay, neither lasted long. Bill waited for Laura to go first, and then he let go.

"Wow."

"That about covers it, yes."

"You're amazing, Laura."

"Not so bad yourself, Bill."

"Wanna get cleaned up?"

"Yeah, then I should head back to Colonial One."

"I wish you could stay."

"Oh, Bill. If I stayed we'd get no sleep. What kind of leaders would we be then?"

"I seem to remember us staying up for a week straight."

"Yeah, and how effective were our decisions?"

"I think we did alright."

"We did. But we still need sleep."

"Right then. I'll see you for our next meeting."

"Yes, and I'd like to see you on Colonial One tomorrow morning if you can spare the time. We'll probably need a few hours."

"Col. Tigh would be happy to cover for me, Madame President."

They untangled their limbs and climbed out of the rack, walking hand in hand to the head.

"Care to share a shower?"

"Does seem to be the most effective method. Good for the fleet too."

"Absolutely."

If their shower were meant to conserve water, it failed miserably. But if it were meant as a way for them to continue exploring each other, then it was a great success. And neither of them had ever been cleaner. They both used the opportunity to plan future encounters. They swore to the gods and themselves that there would be many more.

After their shower, they dried each other off, and retrieved their scattered clothing. Laura's blouse was wrinkle resistant, so a quick shake fixed most of the problems. Plus, she'd be wearing her jacket over top. Her skirt was another story, but she could say she passed out on Bill's couch-Billy would accept that. The Galactica's laundry staff would be able to take care of Bill's uniform. But he was staying in for the evening, so he remained in his brown robe that Laura found very charming.

As she donned each article of clothing, Laura became President Roslin again. But Laura would be back to play, frequently.